


Draco & The Muggle Blender

by 9fn432



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9fn432/pseuds/9fn432
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's patience is tested by Harry's unusual and particular demands. It doesn't help that there are some additional complications brought on by Harry's condition. Minor references to mpreg. COMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco & The Muggle Blender

**Author's Note:**

> This was my fourth fic, written for the 2011-2012 Wizsprogs Winter Mini-Fest. Big thanks to Maureen and Conversed_Cullen for beta-ing, and Liz for pre-reading.
> 
> The original prompt was Weird cravings.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry or Draco – they belong to JK Rowling. I do own a blender, other kitchen appliances and most of the ingredients listed in this story. But I don't put them together, except for entertainment purposes.

Draco stumbled into the kitchen, cursing when he stubbed his toe on a chair. His fingers sought out the light switch and he rubbed bleary eyes, squinting in the harsh glare of the fluorescent light. He missed the soft glow of a _Lumos_ , but with all the magical instability of Harry's pregnancy, they had made the necessary decision to live without magic until the twins were born.

Adjusting to a Muggle lifestyle hadn't been as difficult as Draco had anticipated, though it wasn't without challenges. He thought the discovery of telephones and take-away menus were a godsend, but getting food delivered to Grimmauld Place presented a problem. After a few poor delivery boys had been left standing in between numbers eleven and thirteen looking rather bewildered, Hermione sourced Draco and Harry a Muggle flat as close to Diagon Alley as possible, without the magical fields triggering any of the nasty reactions Harry had experienced since he fell pregnant.

Both Draco and Harry had needed to learn patience. Muggle methods were a lot slower than magical means, and the near-instant gratification they were used to could no longer be achieved. Kettles took longer to boil, ovens took even longer to cook food, microwaves were noisy, and Draco had to wade through manual after manual to try and work out how everything functioned. Harry was absolutely no help at all, despite having cooked frequently while living at the Dursley's.

The pregnancy had been quite a shock to everyone. Two years after Draco had moved in with Harry, Draco noticed Harry's magic was behaving strangely. Initially, small spells did not quite function as they should: a heating charm cast on Draco's cloak caused the cloak to become covered in icicles, a _Wingardium Leviosa_ intended to lift a large pile of paperwork resulted in Harry's entire desk rising to the ceiling. As time progressed, a more extreme outcome was a door being blown to smithereens after a quietly cast _Alohamora_. Harry started experiencing adverse reactions to other people's magic; when Draco cast a summoning charm for his cloak one evening, Harry spent the next ten minutes sitting with his head between his knees suffering from vertigo. As Harry's health deteriorated, Draco conjured some orchids in an effort to cheer his lover, which made Harry break out in boils. When Draco came home one day to find Harry leaning over the toilet bowl, losing the contents of his stomach, Draco was beside himself with worry. He gathered up his lover and Apparated directly into St. Mungo's, causing Harry to black out.

Having grown up among Muggles, Harry and Hermione had never heard that a wizard could conceive. In the wizarding world there had been rumours and stories, but they were thought to be legend, so even the Healers at St. Mungo's were at a loss. The longer Harry remained in the hospital, the sicker he became. Hermione, who was pregnant with her second child, refused to leave Harry's side, forcing her own Healer to conduct her six month check-up at Harry's bedside. It was only then that the truth was revealed. An observation spell used for pregnant witches resulted in three fetuses shimmering in the room – one in front of Hermione's slightly swollen belly, and two smaller images floating above Harry's flat stomach.

When Hermione's Patronus arrived in Draco's office at Gringotts, he promptly fainted with shock, having to be revived by Bill. On learning of Harry's predicament, Bill granted Draco a leave of absence to look after Harry.

Once the Healers determined Harry's apparent "allergy" to all things magical, Draco worked hard to remove all traces of magic from their day-to-day lives. The joy of creating not one new life, but two, made Draco willing to cater to Harry's slightest whim, bringing him to his current predicament, standing in the small kitchen of their muggle flat at three o'clock in the morning.

A further side-effect of the pregnancy had come in the form of some very odd cravings, usually occurring in the middle of the night. Draco had tolerated Harry's demands without complaint, suffering many a sleepless night making one concoction after another to appease his partner. Tonight, it was a sweet potato and pickle smoothie, and a sardine and peach sandwich. He shuddered, fighting his gag reflex.

He set about making the sandwich, by far the easiest part of tonight's craving. Draco assembled bread and a knife on the chopping board, then extracted the tin of sardines from the cupboard and a plastic container of sliced peaches from the refrigerator. He marvelled at the large contraption, trying to catch that moment once again when the light turned off as he closed the door. No success. Never mind, perhaps next time.

Nibbling on a peach slice, he efficiently sliced the bread and arranged the sardines on the slices, holding his breath in an attempt to avoid the fishy smell. The peach slices were drained on some paper towel before completing the sandwich. He quickly placed the snack inside a container and sealed it, put away the leftovers and discarded the scraps. A quick spray of lemon scented air freshener succeeded in banishing the rest of the lingering odour.

Draco steeled himself for the hard part. He pulled open the third kitchen drawer and rifled through it, pulling out the instructions for the blender. He had watched Hermione use this particular machine a few times, and had tried to pay attention, but this was his first solo run. He sat down and read through the manual thoroughly. It seemed fairly straightforward, but the thought of those metal blades spinning at high speed made him nervous.

He looked in the crowded appliance cupboard and groaned. Harry's odd cravings had resulted in the purchase of a large number of kitchen appliances and gadgets, and of course, the blender was right at the _back_. He pulled out the electric beaters, wincing as he recalled getting his finger caught. The juicer followed, then the electric frying pan; Draco's fingers still tingled from the burn suffered last time _that_ had been used. The rice cooker was next; he didn't know what was wrong with rice cooked on the stove or in the microwave, but apparently it didn't _taste_ right. The popcorn machine was after that, Draco was still finding popcorn scattered around the kitchen three weeks after he used that last. The final two items were the pie maker and the snow cone maker. Draco shook his head at that one.

Once the blender base, jug and lid were eventually retrieved, he put away everything else, taking twice as long to arrange things so they fit.

He decided to wash the jug and lid, just to be safe. Despite his frustration at all the extra cautions and complexities involved in Harry's care, he would do nothing to jeopardise the health of his lover and their children. As he referred to the manual, he assembled the machine on the bench, making sure there was plenty of clear space. Hermione had never made a mess with this thing, but one could never be too sure.

The next step was to assemble the ingredients. Harry had been very specific: lukewarm steamed sweet potato, sliced pickles – the ones _with_ the peppercorns, but make sure none of the peppercorns are actually _in_ the smoothie, thank you very much – and equal parts tomato juice, pumpkin juice and water. Draco shuddered again, feeling queasy.

Working with the same efficiency as earlier, he peeled and diced the sweet potato, setting it in the microwave to steam. He sifted through the half dozen jars of pickles in the fridge, checking his selection carefully. He did not want a repeat of the occasion when he had picked the mini pickled onions instead of the large ones.

He measured the liquids and poured them into the blender jug, then dropped in a handful of pickle slices, swearing when he saw a wayward peppercorn fall. Scared that somehow those blades would start moving on their own, he unplugged the blender from the wall and removed the jug from the base just to be safe. He felt for the peppercorn carefully with his fingers, and after finding a second peppercorn he felt reasonably confident the concoction was pepper free.

He jumped when the microwave beeped. This was their second microwave, a replacement after the first one was damaged beyond repair; no one had said metal shouldn't go in a microwave, and the instructions had been impossible to read, appearing to have been translated from Swahili via Chinese. Draco missed their first microwave, it had a nicer "ding" sound when it finished, not like the screeching beep of the new one. He pulled the container out of the machine, swearing when he burnt his fingers on the steam, and drained the potato, running some cold water over it to reduce the heat. That was one instruction he _did_ remember from Hermione's lessons; hot food in a blender was apparently not a good idea and Draco didn't really want to find out why.

When the potato was sufficiently cooled, he placed it into the blender and secured the lid, locking the jug back in place on the base. Now for the moment of truth. He turned the dial and waited. Nothing happened. Draco huffed, switched the dial back to off and opened the manual to the "troubleshooting" section. He checked that the jug was locked correctly. He checked that the lid was secure. He checked that the blender was plugged in... and it wasn't. He huffed again, then plugged in the cord. To be safe, he checked through the manual one more time, and then switched on the power.

The next attempt to turn on the blender was more successful, but an odd noise had him switching it off quickly to check he hadn't put something in that didn't belong. The noise continued, however, when the blender was switched off – a feeble voice drifting down the hallway.

"Draco? Do we have any ice cream? Liquorice?" He asked, somewhat plaintively. "And put some pickled onions on the ice cream. The little ones. And can you add some anchovies to the smoothie?"

Draco's shoulders sagged and he groaned. He found the anchovies, added them to the blender and switched it on again. He looked at the calendar on the fridge. Two more months!

**~Fin~**


End file.
